CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Riley gripped the dashboard fearfully as the RV tires squealed and a truck behind them honked furiously. Agent Crivaro had veered their motor home sharply into the left lane, cutting off an eighteen-wheeler. As the truck bore down on them, Crivaro swerved back to the right without even taking the trouble to signal.
More angry honking ensued from a driver in that lane.
“Don’t forget you’re driving a small house,” Riley told him nervously.
“What I need is a light and a siren,” Jake snapped.
The idea of a camper barreling along with turret light flashing and siren wailing actually made Riley laugh.
“I know, I know,” Crivaro growled. “Don’t worry, this damned tub won’t go fast enough to get us killed, but at least most traffic will stay out of our way.”
“Some of them a
